


Gorgeous

by thetasteofhercherrycarmex



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Cats, Drunken Flirting, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Heavy Drinking, Humor, Meet-Cute, Song: Gorgeous (Taylor Swift), Spencer Reid Fluff, reader is recently single
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26965162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetasteofhercherrycarmex/pseuds/thetasteofhercherrycarmex
Summary: Spencer Reid goes to a bar. Reader likes what she sees.Based off of the Taylor Swift song Gorgeous.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	Gorgeous

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Gorgeous the other day and this popped into my head, and I just had to write something about it. Just some fun, flirty fluff for our troubled times. Enjoy.

“Hello, stranger.” They were words you couldn’t quite remember saying, but you knew they had been said at some point that night. You were hammered, to put it politely, and shitfaced to do so not quite the same. 

But it wasn’t without good reason, you told yourself as you ordered another drink. You weren’t even sure what it was as you motioned to whatever the bartender had just made, but it looked strong. And that was just what you needed right now. 

You didn’t drink often, but when you did, things did tend to get a little… out of hand. 

To put it the nicest way possible. 

Somewhere between drink #2 and shot #3, a man walked into the bar and sat down near you. You looked over at him for a second, and _wow._ You looked for a couple more seconds. 

He was possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. 

He had a pretty smile, the one he flashed at the bartender as he ordered a drink making you want to swoon. His hair… well, it was hard to describe his hair. But it was curly, and in that kind of not-really-long-but-not-really-short length you loved. And his _eyes._ Oh, you could get lost in his eyes. You couldn’t even tell what color they were, but just the sight of them was enough. 

And that’s when he saw you. 

His head was turned in your direction, those utterly enticing eyes studying you for a moment. 

“Hello, stranger.” You heard yourself say. Wait, did you really say that? Hold on. You didn’t just drunkenly pick-up line an incredibly beautiful _stranger_ , alone in a bar. That’s what girls who wanted to be murdered by a serial killer did. 

“I could say the same to you,” The man responded, and you nearly dropped the drink in your hand.  
Was he really talking to you? After that kind of introduction? You had to be dreaming. 

“Have I… seen you here before?” The man asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“Nope,” You said, shaking your head. “I’m a first timer.” You added, taking a long sip from your drink. “Have I… seen you?” You asked, an eyebrow popping up to ask the question. The man laughed. 

“Probably not,” He said, and then reached out to shake your hand. “Spencer Reid.” He said. 

You cleared your throat, the thousands of ways this could go wrong buzzing around in your head. And then you offered him your hand, shaking it quickly. 

“Y/n.” You said. Spencer smiled a little bit before taking a sip from his own drink. 

He had a very pretty smile. 

“What are you drinking?” You asked after a moment. Spencer laughed. 

“Soda water.” He replied. You laughed loudly, the irony flashing red flags in your head. 

“You’re at a bar, not drinking?” You asked. Spencer shrugged. 

“I don’t drink,” He said. You laughed again, this time a snort coming out of your nose. 

“ _I don’t drink_ ,” You said in a sing-songy voice. Yes, you were making fun of this stranger who was in a bar but didn’t drink. No, you didn’t know why. 

“Well, clearly you do.” Spencer said, motioning to the empty shot glasses nearby you.

“ _Hey!_ ” You exclaimed, feigning offence. “I’m at a bar, _Spencer_ ,” You said. You took an extra long sip of your drink, just for good measure. 

“You know, an estimated 85,000 people die of alcohol related deaths per year in the US alone, making it the third leading preventable cause of death in the United States.” Spencer said. 

You gaped at him for a moment. Was the prettiest man you had ever seen also like, walking Google? 

“Well, luckily enough for me, I have plenty of reason to be drinking my mind out as of this moment.” You said. 

“Oh?” Spencer asked, his face inquisitive. 

“You see, I used to have a boyfriend,” You started, motioning to somewhere in the air to represent him. “But now his secretary has a boyfriend.” You paused. “A boyfriend that is him. And he elected not to tell me for four months of our relationship.” You finished explaining, and Spencer’s pretty eyes were wide. 

You weren’t even sure why you’d told him. He was the first person you had told since you had officially broken up with your boyfriend four hours earlier. It was nice to tell someone, but it felt impossible to talk to Spencer’s beautiful, stupid, gorgeous face. 

“Wow,” He said. “That’s unfortunate.” 

“ _Yeah._ ” You answered. “Men, always a joy,” You added, taking a last swig of your drink. Spencer laughed a little at your comment. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You asked, and before waiting for a response, you added, “if you do, _god_ I’m jealous of her.” 

Oh no. Did you seriously just say that? To a practical stranger? 

Maybe the alcohol was bolstering your confidence a little _too_ much. You needed to be cut off. You should just go home now and bury your face until the embarrassment wore off. Which would probably be like the rest of eternity. 

“Um, no, I don’t.” Spencer replied. You were absolutely sure you were blushing. You had to be. “Although, I appreciate the compliment.” He added. 

The compliment. He appreciated the compliment. 

“I’m sorry,” You said quickly. “I think that’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever said.” 

There was no way on the planet that you were going to get out of the hole you were currently digging for yourself. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Spencer said. “Right now, I’m pretty glad I don’t.” 

He was a sweet talker. Of course. 

You were dead, you just had to be. Maybe you had been murdered by a serial killer on the way to the bar, and you were just living out a perfect little fantasy inside of your head to make it seem like you were still alive and well. Yeah, that checks out. You would just go home, fall asleep, and wake up in whatever the afterlife happened to be. 

“Y/n? You okay?” Spencer asked after a moment. You shook yourself out of your thoughts. No, you were not okay. 

The way he said your name was a high you think you could be on for the rest of your life. It fit perfectly in his mouth, and your mind drunkenly wandered to whatever else would fit perfectly in it. 

Thoughts for later. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You said, motioning for the check from the bartender. “Well, i’m not. But I will be, when I sleep this off.” You explained. Spencer nodded. 

You looked up at his face for a moment. In the dim lighting of the bar, he looked absolutely perfect. He was like one of those renaissance paintings that were supposed to be the pinnacle of human beauty. 

Spencer’s eyes were knitted together in a concerned line, but his eyes were soft. You could finally see what color they were, an almond brown you wanted to drown in. It was hard to explain, but brown eyes had always appealed to you more than blue. Spencer’s eyes were anything but ocean blue, but that was just what you wanted. 

He was so gorgeous, it almost made you angry. Like, _how_ could anyone ever say no to this man. Unless he turned out to be the embodiment of douchebag, he was probably the perfect man.

Suddenly, Spencer brushed his hand against your own. You looked down at it, your eyes wide. He didn’t just do that on purpose… did he?

You very much wanted to kiss this lovely stranger, and damn to the consequences. 

“Dance with me,” Spencer said, as a new song began to play throughout the bar. You looked up, and he had a kind of desperation in his eyes. Slowly, you nodded, and stood from your place at the bar. Spencer took your hand, his touch gentle, like he was handling porcelain. 

For the millionth time that night, you were convinced that this wasn't happening. 

Spencer led you down to the dance floor, his hands finding a place to rest on your hips. You reached up and placed your own along his shoulders, finding a comfortable space in between the two of you. 

The alcohol was definitely bolstering your confidence, because after a moment, you leaned down and rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder. Your face fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, and you could almost hear his heartbeat over the thrum of the bar. Your body pressed against his, fitting together like a perfect puzzle piece. 

Isn’t this how humans were meant to be? The thought crossed your mind, but you brushed it away. There was no time for philosophical discussion at this moment. 

It wasn’t really dancing. It was more like swaying along to a song with your hands all over one another, but that’s all dancing really is, isn’t it? If anything, it was perfect. This was a moment you would like to sear into your memory forever. Someday, you’d be telling the other eighty year olds in the nursing home about the time you danced with the most gorgeous man on Earth at a bar. 

The song was over too soon. It’s always in moments like this that time seems to speed up, almost as if it were in a race to see who could finish first. 

Spencer pulled away gently, his hands leaving your sides. You missed his touch, the echoes of his fingertips leaving lonely traces on your body. 

You glanced up, watching Spencer’s face. He was watching you, his eyes studying your reaction to what he had done. His mouth was open slightly, almost like a more distracted part of his brain was going elsewhere. 

And then finally, he broke the silence between you two. 

“That was, uhh… That was-- thank you,” Spencer said, stumbling over his words. 

“No problem,” You said. You contemplated heading back to the bar and throwing down another-- let’s be honest, a few-- more shots, and then maybe kissing him. But somehow, you knew that he was probably the kind of man to reject your drunken advances, and instead show you the honor of walking you to your car and never seeing you again. 

You weren't sure what to do, but then the bartender approached with your check. You took it wordlessly, pulling out your credit card from your purse and not bothering to look at how much this night of drinking was costing you. You knew it would probably be expensive anyways. 

“What are you going to do?” Spencer asked. You sighed deeply. As much as you wanted to go along with the plan of doing shots and then ravaging this man’s perfect lips, you figured it probably wasn’t for the best, as you could barely walk straight in your heels as it was. 

“Probably just… I don’t know. I guess I’ll just stumble home to my cats.” You said, but then a thought occurred to you. “Alone.” You added quickly. Spencer nodded. 

“Probably for the best.” He said. 

And then, egged on by the willingness of alcohol running through your system, and a kind of witty spirit that had decided to possess you just at the right moment, you spoke. 

“Unless you want to come along.” And you waited a beat, and then winked. 

Oh my stars. You _winked._ And it was like a little chime going off in your head. 

And Spencer smiled. 

“Ahhh,” He mused, pondering the offer. “And what would I be escorting you home for, exactly?” he asked. 

Oh, boy. He knew what he was doing. 

“I don’t know,” You said, cocking your head to the side a little. “It depends on… what you’re in the mood for.” You added. Spencer chuckled. 

“I see,” He said. “And are you aware that there have been multiple serial killers who picked up their victims from bars and offered to take them home, under the guise of safety?” He asked. 

No, you were not aware of that. 

“What are you, an FBI agent or something?” You asked, laughing. Spencer laughed with you. 

“Something like that,” He said. 

Huh. Interesting. Smart, pretty, and probably works a nice job. Could he be any more perfect? 

“So what do you say, pretty boy?” You asked. Spencer jumped a little bit at the nickname like it was familiar to him. He looked over at you, his face studying you. “Do we call that a deal?” 

“One condition,” Spencer said. You nodded. “I walk you home, and you go straight to bed with an Advil and a bottle of water waiting for you in the morning.” He said. 

He really knew how to be a gentleman. Damn his perfect manners. 

“And…?” You asked, leaving the question open. Spencer leaned down, his face dangerously close to yours. 

“And you get this,” He said, waiting for a moment before he gently brought his lips to yours. 

His lips were soft, gentle, and they were gone too soon. But when they touched your own, it was like stars exploding in your soul. It was perfect, the way Spencer’s hand cradled your face in his palm, the way his hair brushed against your forehead, the way he looked when he pulled away. His mouth hung open slightly, like it had before, and his eyes were glancing from your own to your lips, carefully studying his next decision. 

You wanted more. But you were drunk, and you were sure he would take anything further as exploiting your already mildly dubious consent. 

“I…” You breathed out. “Wow.” Was all you could say. That was probably the best, and yet probably most PG, kiss you think you’d ever had in your life. 

“So what do you say,” Spencer said, straightening up. “Do we call that a deal?” 

Of course you did. If Spencer could do something like that on whatever this impromptu first date was, you would do anything to have his lips on yours again. 

You looked up at him, staring deep into his beautiful brown eyes. His hair was tousled from the dancing and the kiss, but you almost preferred him that way. His eyes, well, you thought you could just drown in those eyes if you were able to. And his body, his smile. The way he looked at you. How could you say no?

“Yeah,” You answered, making what was probably the best decision you’d ever made. “What can I say; you’re gorgeous.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment suggestions on anything you'd like to see next.


End file.
